Prison Bars
by VasaVasorum
Summary: She was trapped by the decisions of others. He was never meant to be free anyway. ItaSaku. -Non-Massacre-
1. Chapter 1

Prison Bars.

_-Non-Massacre-_

Summary: She was trapped by the decisions of others. He was never meant to be free anyway. ItaSaku.

* * *

---

---

Rows upon rows of meticulously stacked tins towered over him on both sides with gaudy signs placed strategically. "Bargain" and "Half Price" jutted out from the white paper like glaring neon signs. The slightest wrinkling of the skin between his brows might have been seen had someone been playing attention, but aside from that his face remained alarmingly stoic and static for such a young boy.

Dark eyes flicked over the kanji that marked each box of apples. His okaa-san had been very specific - she would only accept one kind and no other. Of course he wanted to please her so he would be very careful to get the exact, right kind.

A soft gurgling noise to his left caught his attention momentarily. He had known a presence was behind that display, but had not bothered to check. Tou-san and one of his many, blank faced tutors would have said he was being negligent and should have looked. Taking two swift steps he peered around the corner ready to slip soundlessly out of sight.

A small, chubby baby sat in the child seat on the trolley swathed in layers of clothing. Wide, round, green eyes were fixed on him the moment he slid into view as she might have smiled around the thumb lodged firmly in her mouth. The strangest thing though, was the curly, _pink _hair that surrounded her head like a living halo. A frown appeared as Itachi moved a step closer and looked at the fine hair that dusted her head.

Who would dye such a young child's hair?

The little girl seemed oblivious to the whispered question, but let out an almost alarming, pained sounding shriek when he took a cautious step closer to better observe her strange hair colour. His baby brother Sasuke was hardly ever that noisy unless he was thoroughly displeased - despite the fact that he was generally a fussy baby. His presence must be very disagreeable to her if she reacted that way.

"Honey, why are you making so much noise?" said a cooing voice from the next isle.

The baby before him made that same shrieking noise in reply and began chewing vigorously on the edge of her sleeve.

"Hush, my love," admonished the voice, followed by the sounds of soft footsteps that he might not have noticed had he not been paying close attention.

Turning minutely Itachi watched out of the corner of his eye for the owner of the unknown voice. He debated leaving then, but a soft, feminine voice interrupted his thoughts and forced him to stay so as not to appear rude.

"And who is this? A little suitor for my girl?" A woman with cropped, dark blonde hair swept around the corner and fixed her strangely thin eyes on him.

There was a moment of silence as those grey eyes looked over him before she smiled widely down at him, displaying the straight, white teeth between her full lips. Itachi felt deeply uncomfortable, though he didn't show it, when faced with the full attention of this strange woman and her bright haired offspring. It was a rare thing for him to be in contact with people outside the Clan without one of his parents.

"I'm sorry, she never normally makes such a fuss," she said, tilting her head and flicking her sharp eyes between the child and him, "she must like you."

There was a moment when the spark in her eyes reminded him of the one worn by the Elders when they looked at him.

"Uchiha-chan," the woman added, probably having seen the insignia on the back of his shirt.

Itachi was unsure what to make of the honorific she had added, which would have been mocking had it not been said in that honeyed tone she seemed to use - perhaps that only made it moreso. Her smile widened if that was possible as she moved around him to stroke the downy curls on the little girl's head and place a few more items into the shopping trolley. She turned back to him and observed him closely- the disturbing glitter in her eyes was gone. Outwardly, he displayed no sign of his discomfort.

"Would it offend you terribly if I asked whether you were lost...? Separated from your parents."

"No -"

"Haruno-san," she interjected.

"No, I am not lost, Haruno-san," he replied evenly, resisting the urge to look away from her unmoving gaze.

She laughed suddenly, loudly, and made him feel even more uncomfortable in her presence, if that was even possible. The unbound, wild, flippant women outside of the Clan were such an oddity to him he honestly had no idea how to handle her. Only his strict training and the careful suppressing of his emotions since before he could even walk kept his expression impassive and his eyes watchful of her movements.

The baby practically glowed with delight - her wide eyes shining at the sound of her mother's amusement. Itachi understood that feeling. His eyes flickered down the aisle looking for his own mother; who would probably be wondering where he had got to by now.

"Such a polite child! They have indeed taught you well, Uchiha-chan. You avoided the question and did not tell me that I had offended you. That was slippery of you."

Unsure how to answer her analysis he stayed silent and leaned a minuscule amount backwards which she did not notice, being a civilian. When he did not reply the smile slid off her face quite suddenly to be replaced by a thoughtful look. The quick changes in her emotions were almost fascinating to observe.

"I am sure you were not wandering without a purpose. I shall leave you to it then, hm?" She was smiling again, vaguely this time, though her eyes retained their razor-blade sharpness.

The silence between them was tense as a drawn bowstring and broken only by the soft snuffles of the pink haired child. Itachi waited for her to leave and take her gurgling bundle with her, but she made no move to do so. It was intolerably rude to leave a conversation with someone older, or of higher class, without them ending it first or taking leave. Despite the suggestion of that in her previous words it was not final enough. She seemed to realise his predicament as her expression held something of concealed mirth.

"The correct answer to that would be; Yes, Haruno-san. Have a pleasant day," she said, sweetly.

He nodded slowly his gaze drawn once again to her child who was now cooing to herself and bobbing her small head causing the wild curls to move with each jerk.

"Why thank you, Uchiha-chan, the same to you," she continued, her expression now smug for reasons he could not identify.

Without another word she turned and left the young prodigy standing alone in the middle of the aisle. The only sign that the short encounter had affected him was the time he stood staring after her, blinking and frowning slightly. Shortly afterwards he gathered six of the apples his mother had specifically requested and continued as though nothing had happened.

His photographic memory meant that the encounter was etched in perfect detail in the depths of his mind.

---

Time passed as it always must.

---

It was a typical day in Autumn: leaves covered the pathways, rain poured and people scuttled in and out as quickly as possible to avoid the slightly unpleasant weather. One of his arms hung heavily by his side, bandaged and covered by the unusually loose sleeves of his shirt.

Leave, they had said. Take a break. Rest. Relax.

An wry smile played at the corners of his mouth as he traced the chakra signals of every person that walked the streets within a mile's vicinity of him; unable to turn the ability off. They flared with anger, hummed with emotion and a small few dimmed like candles deprived of oxygen - their owners either shinobi concealing themselves, or people of very ill health. If he was inclined to think that way he might have found that in itself ironic; that strong Shinobi and those at death's door felt the same.

As it was it mattered little, a mere irritation when in enemy territory and on alert. The former was the important one - he was always on alert. Then again, Uchiha Clan grounds may has well have been enemy territory for all the safety he felt enclosed within their suffocating walls.

His leave meant that he could spend some of his normally monopolised time with his younger brother. The Academy was due to close soon and he had volunteered to be there to escort his younger brother home. Flinching inwardly, he hoped the small surprise didn't come back to bite him if his younger brother deemed it appropriate to give him one of his rare - but decidedly exuberant - hugs.

As it was even the cloth of his bandages and clothes brushing his burned, blistered and over-sensitised skin caused great pain, even if he didn't - perhaps even couldn't - ever show it.

Rain began to fall just as the building came into view. It was only light, drizzle, but the people in the streets ducked their heads down further and moved about their duties as though caught in a raging blizzard. Flashes of chakra showed feelings of irritation from all sides.

A few of the children - all kunoichi - had been let out early it would seem. Most left quickly, but a few lingered; presumably waiting for parents. One by one they were taken away until the only one left lingered near the entrance as he did with her voluminous coat covering her entire top half. He knew she was shooting what were probably meant to be surrepticious glances in his direction.

Her eyes glowed like liquid emeralds, but her small face looked pale and wan. Skinny legs shook from the cold and he could hear her sniffing from here. Weak, young; not a threat. If he had been his father he might have said below his notice, but he was not his father.

Just as she watched him, he watched her. There was nothing strange, or noticeable, but her shining eyes and her strange chakra signal. The former was barely worth noting... the latter, interesting to say the least.

It was completely controlled - rigid almost. She was not aware, it would seem. He was all too aware.

Sasuke didn't even glance in her direction when he sprinted out, rain not dampening his spirit having caught sight of his aniki. Her chakra signal started to move strangely, though still effeciently. Tendrils curled around the boy like a cat greeting its owner - slinking around his legs and arms and mingling with his own.

The sense of longing in her gaze was palpable and painful.

---

Time Passed.

---

The next time he saw her she was older, taller, but still the same little shivering child she had been all that time ago. They stood in the middle of the kitchen - her, and the blond Kyubbi vessel - looking like prey in plain sight of a predator. She seemed to be afraid to touch anything as though it might burn her, while sporting and expression that was very close to awe. The only reason he knew it was her was because of her chakra, which seemed to have grown in size somewhat.

Kyubbi-vessel just looked like he wanted to spring out the door and run away, with his constant fidgeting and moving from foot to foot. The malignant chakra that was housed inside him made his presence seem almost triple the size it should be, if he was just what he should be - a young boy and nothing more; like Sasuke. It cast a dark shadow over his form, despite his frequent smiles.

Leaning back in his chair, he watched the young pair over the rim of his mug, slowly inhaling the swirling, trailing vapours that emerged from the hot liquid within.

"Itachi, where is your brother? It is terribly rude to keep his teammates waiting," murmured Mikoto, in her always gentle voice.

The one that had soothed him so much as a child, coupled with the soft circular motions of her dainty hands rubbing his heaving back as he choked up yet more blood and oozing liquids that smelled like decay. It didn't have such a great effect on him now. Not much did. Taking a long, slow drink of the tea in his hands he stretched out his senses and identified Sasuke's unique signature; currently moving down the hall towards the stairs.

"He's just coming."

Almost no effort was required on his part to locate his younger brother. From the moment he was born Itachi had recognised the unbreakable connection between them. He was always able to find the other - always. Blood bound them. Blood held them together. But, two strong animals kept in a cage rarely kept the peace - they already stared each other down inside the bars of the cage that was their Clan.

This one had the strength to become an equal. This one had the strength to become a _challenge. _He would need the strength too; the power, the determination; if he was to fight off the threat that Itachi himself had faced. Snake eyes - greedy and grasping. Despite his fabled genius he couldn't protect his foolish little outou from everything - not for lack of trying, behind the backs of all in the Clan, and the boy himself.

Eyes darker than his own flicked straight to him as he entered the room - he could feel the gaze burning into his back.

"Sasuke," he said, quietly, as the boy passed.

He stopped, but didn't turn round.

"Train hard." _Beat me._

"Hn." Was his answer: a flicker of frustration and crushing hopelessness and a strident desire to triumph bled into his chakra signal, though his voice betrayed nothing.

The instant he entered the girl's eyes were on him and her gaze softened. Sakura, he reminded himself. A perfect name for such a dainty little thing. Short- lived beauty that withered almost soon as it was able to be enjoyed. He hoped Sasuke would realise her untapped potential, but the boy could be so damn _blind_ for someone with eyes meant to penetrate any illusion.

Looking down into the dark liquid, he watched the reflection of his darker still eyes and the pale features that marked him as an Uchiha and smiled slightly. From the corner of his eyes he saw Sakura glance over as though perturbed by this - both Sasuke and Naruto had already gone. Their eyes met for a moment and a jolt of electricity passed between them. Her eyes hardened, as did her chakra (obviously she felt he was trying to intimidate her) and he smiled a little fraction wider.

Perhaps she could bear watching. After all, it always served to be one step in front of everyone else. This one just might be something too.

---

Time dragged.

---

"Itachi," one of the circle wheezed, his fleshy jowls quivering as he spoke," it is finally time. We have selected the perfect candidate to be your bride."

"Is that so?" The reply was controlled and indifferent, save for the way the breath hissed between his clenched teeth at the final syllable.

The lines on their ancient, haggard faces deepened until they were like trenches. Anger and irritation radiated from their auras all sides, but from his own father. His foolish, blind father - the one who had been previously been so willing and ready to wage war on Konoha. The old fools... they really had no idea how close they had come to being obliterated by their own flesh and blood. Fitting, perhaps, as that blood was the one that they so revered - even in death he was sure they would use it as a way to show how superior the Uchiha lineage was.

That was all the cared about.

"We must see to it that our ancestry is passed on with the help of an appropriate candidate, after all."

One coughed; a dry sound like that of dessicated branches snapping. For a moment he could see his own hands clasping around each of their haggard throats and snapping them as easily as he would twigs. The moment passed, as the haze of anger sharpened into cold, clinical hatred, and he stared upon the dark, dead eyes of his kin. They would most likely pick a cousin.

So as not to taint the precious heirs he was expected to sire.

His expression hadn't changed throughout.

"Haruno Sakura; apprentice to the Godaime - she is your chosen. Her father, mother and Clan have already been informed and the correct processes are all in motion. We trust you have no objections, Itachi?"

Unbidden he looked past their hateful faces and saw his mother peering into the room from beyond. The faint spider-web lines that had begun to mark her milky skin were deepened with worry - her chakra flared towards him - instinctively he knew she had been involved in this and pushed them towards that girl. Had she seen? - the way he watched her on her less and less frequent visits, the curiosity that lingered in his gaze... a flash of covetousness.

"When have I ever had objections, Elder-dono?"

He grunted in reply and the rest nodded, eyes black voids sucking in every shred of will he still possessed.

_Always. I have always had objections. Always._

Standing, he bowed and left the room - deeply suspicious of the almost... light feeling that lodged itself in his chest. Itachi knew when he wanted something, and he made sure to take it. The sweets and fruits he had been forbidden to eat as a child - he took those, he hid the sweet smell that lingered on his hands with kunai oils and feverishly brushed his teeth to remove any evidence his father might pick up on. His brother's ambition, he took that - he molded it around himself.

This one... he wanted her. But, she would fight this because she had never had her hand forced. He was far too used to it, and turning orders around was a game Itachi was more well-versed in than anyone ever should have been. In his eyes she was a _challenge. _

Hopefully, she wouldn't disappoint. He would make sure not to.

---

"Sakura, your intended."

Her eyes were blood-shot, her ridiculous pink hair fluffed up like a kitten rubbed the wrong way and her plump lips were curled up like a child's did when they broke a favourite toy, but her chakra was razor-sharp and _vicious._ Her murderous intent sent and electric _zing _down his spine.

Drawing her self up to level with his collarbone, she bared her little white teeth and hissed so low, none but he could hear her.

"Fuck you."

Her mother smiled widely with the same steely eyes he remembered seeing as a child before turning and leaving them to get "acquainted" in the gardens. It took her three seconds after her mother disappeared to gather up the voluminous, blisteringly pink silk that swathed her lithe form and dart off towards the lowest walls.

"What are you doing?" He called after her, barely raising his voice above the level she could hear.

"Rattling the prison bars."

There was a spark of defiance and anger in her gleaming eyes and the sneering twist of her pretty little mouth, but her chakra said the opposite; beckoning him like a siren song. What kind of suiter would he to be to deny her what she wanted? -

A chase.

The blood was singing in his veins as he raced after that elusive wisp of pink silk and the smell of warm, honeyed skin.

She had no idea what she was getting in to. He never lost the chase.

---

When he caught her, as he knew he would, his heartbeat had barely elevated above normal and his formal haori was uncreased. Sakura was a mass of flushed cheeks and rumpled silk - like she would be if he peeled back all those layers and touched the warm, milky skin that peeked out at her neck and wrists and kissed everywhere. The smell of faint perspiration, the heat of her touch as she slapped his hands away from where he lightly touched her forearm, the coil of her chakra snaking around his own...

Itachi knew he could lose himself in this one.

"I'll never let you have me," Sakura choked out, chest heaving," I'll never let you win."

Itachi reached out to her and flicked his tongue across the collarbone that peeked out above her skewed kimono. Tiny, dainty fists clenched in his long hair and pulled hard as she let out a ragged gasp. If he was a lesser man he would have taken her then - had she allowed it - or pushed her as far as she would go. The skin beneath his tongue had been salty and musky, rather than sweet, but he liked it better that way.

He liked her better with the fire in her eyes and the bitter words on her sweet lips.

"I would never expect anything less." He fixed the clasp that had almost fallen out of her hair and smoothed back the strands from her high forehead.

Sakura straightened her clothes and they walked back side by side as though they had simply taken a stroll together. The slightest brush of arm against arm the only contact.

"I'll never forgive you for this." She smiled a gentle smile as she spoke. Her chakra signals stabbed like a blade.

"You speak as though I had a choice."

---

Her traps were weak and inadequate. At one time many had considered her to be so, perhaps some still did, but he was not one of them. Still, the few kunai, rudimentary genjutsu and shurikan she had set up would do little to keep out an attacker skilled enough to penetrate Konoha's walls. As he moved from the roof into the apartment complex itself he debated silently whether or not he would be able to place some without her knowledge - she might get caught in them, after all.

The corridor that must lead to her room buzzed with her presence, it seemed to swell even to fill the space outside of her small living space. Taking a deep breath he could almost feel the energy - tangible and close. Erratic and yet controlled; like her. Capable of soothing and healing at times. Capable of reducing a man's innards to pulp and a mountain to dust at others. Now, it was rippling with anger.

It struck out at him as he approached with sharp, whiplash movements. That would never hurt, and she had done it on an instinctive level, but it made the muscles of his jaw tighten and his eyes narrowed. Her pain stabbed at him like his own. Something deep within felt a twinge, but Itachi ignored it and slid the newly cut key smoothly into the lock. Her chakra sharpened like a blade and he knew she could hear him, feel him.

The first step inside and he could see narrow, furious slits of cat-like green eyes before Sakura turned away.

"_Get out,"_ she half hissed, her face turned away from him to hide her anger and eyes swollen from crying.

Chakra swirled inside her, spiking and trailing down to her fists, obviously in preparation to forcibly remove him should it come to that.

"I simply wish to speak with you," he supplied blandly; as though she was not about to launch into an attack, as though they weren't in over their heads.

"You do? Or they wish you to?" Her tone was caustic, bitter.

"I do."

They sat in silence for so long; his entire being still and his posture perfect, her body half hunched over where she sat propped up against the window frame with her dainty fingers ripping fist sized holes in the normally difficult to damage silk of the window seat cushions.

"You wished to speak to me... so speak. Say something," her words were harsh but her trembling voice took away the edge.

So used to commands was he, that he barely thought before answering. Honesty between them was needed. They needed to strengthen their bond and make spending time together bareable. Selfishly, he wanted her to want this. That thought was buried so deep the echoes were barely felt at the surface of his consciousness.

"I do not know what to converse with you about."

She snorted,"Too much like your brother."

"I am not him, Sakura," he said, voice carrying a hint of warning.

"No, you are not..."

It almost startled him when her shoulders started to shake and she turned to look at him with those ridiculous, wide, watering eyes that should never have belonged to a kunoichi. Something within him felt something at seeing her distress. The feeling her chakra was giving off was like that off a crumbling dam. It quivered and jolted, but vainly tried to remain still. Not for the first time he felt his own carefully modulated chakra flow react to hers; subtly, barely noticeable.

"You are Uchiha _fucking _Itachi," she choked back tears of anger and humiliation," and yet you lie down, roll over and beg when they tell you to."

He turned his dark, instantly razor sharp gaze to her pretty face and watched as it crumpled and she shook under the weight of her emotions. It was so intriguing to watch he couldn't help staring at the fat, hot droplets that tore down her pale face in a living representation of sorrow. She sparked out the pangs of helplessness and frustration that he felt buried so deep below that they were like a separate being.

Regarding her for a moment he reached a decision before extending his arm out to touch her and wipe the tears away with a calloused thumb; careful not to push down to hard and bruise her deceptively delicate looking skin. The muscles in his arm were tense as he half expected her to reach out and slap his fingers away. While he found her anger amusing and somewhat interesting much of the time, seeing her like this; backed into a corner and defensive; was not something he found enjoyable in the slightest.

"Stop it," she finally muttered, the harsh edge to her words lost on him.

Sakura closed her eyes - thick, dark pink lashes lying against the skin of her cheek. She seemed to have calmed down somewhat. The sudden changes in her emotions forced him to sharpen his gaze and watch her closely - the first level of Sharingan lightening his dark eyes an almost unnoticeable fraction. The soft skin beneath his fingers almost begged to be touched. Perhaps if he was someone else - or just plain something else to her (not just the man she would be forced to marry) - he could soothe her hurt.

He was not.

Doing as she asked he retracted his hand.

"I do not like seeing you this way."

His eyes held her whole and his next words snatched the breath from her lungs though she fought to keep her composure.

"Allow me to court you... Properly. My own way."

---

---

---

* * *

Well, this is my second - I think! - ItaSaku ever. Not sure which one I like better... but it's probably this one. I have some other ones in the works so comments on my style and whatnot would be appreciated. Characterisation, especially, is something easy to get wrong with Itachi - he's such a complex bugger. A pretty one, though, which is probably why I forgive him for his difficult personality. ;)

Thanks for reading - I hope you enjoyed! Due to comments, I will be continuing this - hopefully in a less... bitty (?) style. I'll try and flesh their encounters out somewhat.

V.V

(Oh, by the way, if any awesome person would like to beta this bad boy, then I would be delighted to the extreme.)


	2. Chapter 2

Prison Bars.

_-Non-Massacre-_

Summary: She was trapped by the decisions of others. He was never meant to be free anyway. ItaSaku.

* * *

---

Chapter 2

---

"Sakura-chan! _SAKURA-CHAN! _Oy! - over here."

Naruto and Sasuke. She wondered if they had found out already, and if Sasuke had known before. Their eyes met as Naruto darted towards her, smile wide and dazzling, arms outstretched. Sasuke was looking at her in a calculating sort of way, anger clear in the tight line of his jaw and the stiffness of his posture.

"Hi guys," The smile she offered was a weak gesture, flimsy.

"Ramen first," Naruto declared with a never ending enthusiasm she wished would soak into her being by diffusion.

Sakura didn't want to face Sasuke - her soon-to-be-kin, brother-in-law. There had always been something between them, something she had blown vastly out of proportion when she was younger, and far more foolish. Raw attraction was there - lingering. Couple that with the iron connection that being through so much together forged and you had something alright. How many nights had she thought this over and come to the same conclusion?

They made excellent friends, they would make excellent lovers. They would make a terrible couple; she knew in her heart they could not co-exist in a stable, day-to-day relationship. He was emotionally distant at best: selfish and domineering - a trait that only grew after years upon years of being over-shadowed by a near inhumanly talented older brother. She was emotionally involved at a level that was painful, self-sacrificing, but never a doormat, never able to be submissive.

It would never work. She would end up the bitter, ostracised one, while he saw nothing wrong, but would grow steadily more distant and unsatisfied when she stopped trying to hold them together. One dream that had ended her fantasies all-together showed as much - illicit trysts on both sides to try and fill the gaping emotional and physical wounds left by the other; silent, tense hours together, and silent, angry sex in a darkened room with none of the photographs on the walls she loved and needed.

Still, Sakura thought as she sat on the high stool between her two favourite people in the whole world, would he be bitter? Would feel it was yet another battle lost to his ever-winning, ever-recieving Elder?

Her thoughts stopped for a moment when she concentrated on twisting her noodles just right around her chopsticks, and then focusing on the way the slimy strands slid past her wet lips down her dry throat. Sasuke's resentment poured from him in vicious waves that stung her.

"Sasuke-san, a word?" Murmured a blank-faced, soon-to-be-kin who had slid into the booth with the predatory gait all Uchiha possessed.

"Of course," was his courteous reply, though venom showed in his eyes.

It was an untrusting, difficult Clan she was being sold into.

"I'll catch up to you two."

"Yeah, yeah, Sasuke-bastard."

Naruto and her walked towards the grounds side by side like always, with the easy intimacy that weathering so many conflicts together caused. It struck her that he - Itachi, or his agressively restrictive Clan - might try to stop this; her being with Naruto. In the eyes of many he was still a disgrace, a beast, a _thing._ She would fight to the death for moments like this - to be with her team, but would they ever let her walk this this again; side by side in the bright sunshine for all to see?

Could she forgive herself for considering giving in like that? What was she? Trained by a Sannin, able to move mountains with just her own two hands... Feeling a sort of childish fear and distress welling up inside of her she turned to Naruto and threw her arms around his waist. A surprised "oof" escaped him, but she clung on and choked out words before he got the chance to speak.

"Just... I need this. Shut up for a minute."

She buried her hands in his hair and held him tight against her; smelling the musky smell of earth and ramen and Naruto, and feeling his heat - warm and comforting - soaking through the barriers of cloth into her aching bones. Tentative hands rested on the small of her back before pulling her into an embrace that was too tight. His laughter was rich and familiar and completely non-threatening in her ears.

"Whenever you just "need this", Sakura-chan. You know I'm right here." Teasing coloured his voice as one, large hand slid a little further down until it touched the skin revealed by her standing on her tip-toes to reach him properly.

His calloused fingers lingered there on the border and they stayed like that until the sound of Sasuke's feet crunching in the gravel forced them to break apart. There was something unfamiliar, yet familiar, in those eyes of his that spoke volumes about what a selfish bitch she was, and what those actions would cause him in emotional pain when he found out the truth.

"Teme, always got to spoil the moment," Naruto grumbled at his dark haired companion - seemingly oblivious to the venomous glower on the others face.

"Hn. Dobe, didn't you remember that you have training with -"

"Ero-sannin! Forgot. Damndamndamn!" Naruto cut him off waving his hands and muttering a quick apology before darting off.

Sakura felt sick as she looked at Sasuke - her old crush. He stood - dark and tall - with his hands shoved in his pockets in an old habit he had never broken. The look on his face was more filled with revulsion than she had seen in a long time.

"He doesn't know."

Shame struck like an arrow to her heart.

"No."

Reaching out with a single pale hand he placed a cold finger against the pink suck mark on her collar bone. A memento painted on her skin. It was amazing how cheap he could make her feel with a single gesture.

"I was your first. I had you first. He can't change that. There's nowhere he can touch that I haven't been." It sounded like he was grasping at straws.

"Sasuke," she sighed, "you'll always have that. If it makes you feel better. It doesn't make me feel any better."

He looked like... she couldn't place that expression, but she knew it boded ill. He lowered his hand until the palm lay against the clothed curve of her breast. If she didn't know better it felt like he was marking territory - and she was sick of being treated like territory.

"We finished this," she said.

His dark eyes were inscrutable. Lifting a hand she placed her warm, supple fingers over his.

"And you know I would never cheat."

---

It was stuck to him completely; the fabric burned and melted and ground into skin that was charred, oozing, blistered and healing over the strands even as they spoke. But, even at that she knew that the attack had only clipped him. Had a fire attack of this calibre done more than that he would be nothing but a brittle pile of crumbling bones and burned flesh.

"This will hurt," she said quietly, though with his mind he would have known that a million times over.

"I'm aware," was his response, not at all tainted by pain," but if Sasuke's word is anything to go by I am in good hands."

A warm swell surged up through her stomach before she reminded herself that she hated him. Poised with the disinfected tweezers in her hand, Sakura decided not to say anything in reply to that loaded remark. The thought of Sasuke burned her. She began peeling back the cloth piece by piece - healing and cleansing as she went. He noticed the way her fingertips lingered over the healed skin with a gentle caress.

"I am sorry I could not take you out for lunch as we had arranged."

"It's alright."

He was busy, she was busy. This would be their life together. Maybe, if all went well, they would barely see each other. Her heart twisted at the thought. She sighed and smoothed her hands over the healed muscles to check them.

"You can stay for dinner. I'll order something in."

A hand came back and squeezed her knee gently.

"I would like that."

---

"Sakura-chan, do you love him?" Naruto was shouting, his eyes filled with tears.

"No."

He was shaking in her arms with his shaggy blonde hair tickling her face and neck. All around them was a scar of damage; scorch marks, broken tree trunks, strewn weapons... Sakura had known this wouldn't be easy. She felt his hands squeeze her waist and blindly seek out flesh beneath the clothes. She knew what he wanted. Her hands stilled his with a strength that was deceptive, looking at her stature.

"Be happy for me," she pressed his hands to her face and sweetly kissed his palms.

The moisture in his eyes faded as he looked at her; older and more jaded than she had ever seen him. He touched her face with a reverence she didn't deserve, opened his mouth to speak, and then walked away.

His anger singed the air around them as she watched him walk. It would be two weeks and six days before they collapsed together again and he told her about this girl he had seen in the eternity they were apart. How beautiful she was. How he could never imagine how he hadn't noticed her right before his eyes.

---

"He is such a man, isn't he honey?"

Hatred and love bled into Sakura vision in a caustic swirl as she watched her mother hold the most beautiful kimono she had ever seen in her life up to her form. It was stunning. Enough to knock the breath out of her despite the fact that she hadn't given a damn about clothes outside of a practical setting since she was thirteen years old. The richest, heaviest, white silk embroidered with clouds sewn in silver thread, and tiny, creamy pearls encrusting the hems, collar, and sleeves - forming a precious rainfall down the entirety of the dress.

"Such a man," she cooed, despite the lack of response," strong, intelligent, handsome... and the _connections."_

She sucked in a breath through straight white teeth that made her look like a piranha when she gave a blinding smile. The dress was held open for Sakura; sitting on the bed in her new lacy white lingerie - feeling that the tiny scraps of fabric were more of a death shroud than anything else. Her mother beckoned with a slight jerk of her head and she stood, slipping her arms into the weighty thing, irrationally feeling that it might stifle her.

There was a moment where cool, delicate fingers pushed back the hair from her forehead and stroked her cheeks and temple and she could see true affection in the grey eyes that mirrored the shape of her own, but were alien in any other aspect.

"My beautiful baby girl," she breathed, too many hands roughly jerking the fabric into place and pulling the Obi far too tight," I always knew this would happen."

Standing in front of the mirror, Sakura looked at herself swathed in white silk. The colour made her seem paler than ever - just a waif with a mop of pink hair and ridiculous, large eyes to stop her from disappearing completely. Her hair had been twisted into elegant ringlets, pinned, pulled, styled and stacked high with gems that could feed several villages for years if sold. She looked at her reflection and her stunning, grinning mother behind her and felt like she was drowning in beauty.

The hands stroking her hair moved to her neck and perched there; sharp nails resting against the bundle of veins that was a weak point on her fragile body.

"I knew from the moment I saw him that you should be his."

Not that he should be hers. Not that they should be together. The statement showed once and for all what she was in the eyes of her family; a possession.

---

"You look beautiful."

Itachi's eyelids were lowered to a lazy half-mast as he faced her. She wanted to cry. He looked so sleek and dark and sharp and reminded her strikingly of his namesake for a fleeting moment. A weasel - a bad omen. Somehow, she had never imagined him giving compliments. Behind them masses of kin waited and watched like a baying crowd at a public execution. Sakura could feel the rope tightening around her neck, and wanted to fight. She wondered, vaguely, as holy words were spoken, whether he felt the same.

The rings were perfectly beautiful and perfectly impractical. As ninja wearing a ring posed a hazard in the line of battle - and after the ceremony they would wear them on chains around their necks when on duty. The heavy, gaudy ring studded with garnets, diamonds and rubies looked wrong on her flimsy, pale hand. Itachi's weighty gold band looked worse on his elegant, tapered fingers.

Secretly, she admitted to herself that she liked his hands. It would give her as great satisfaction to hold them in her own as to break them to pieces of splintered bone. When he kissed her she felt that his lips were smoother than they had a right to be, that he pressed against her harder than he deserved to, that she should enjoy it less.

When they were finally alone in the dark, cool room of the newly purchased apartment he peeled back the thick layers of her clothing like the skin of a ripe fruit and pressed his cool lips to her flesh.

"Sakura, Sakura, Sakura," he murmured her name against her skin like a mantra.

She curled her hands in his long, unbound hair as he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses against the smooth column of her neck and jaw. Some part of her wanted to ask him to just make it quick, but another took a look at the lean, pale form that was to share her life and bed and decided against it. For someone with so much control and power, his hands were shaking. She groaned aloud as he drew back the final piece of clothing covering her and kissed her breast.

The careful effort he took with her and her body spoke volumes. She felt her anger and resentment at him slipping away like water held in her clenched hand. Trying to make this good for him too; she ran her hands over all the skin she could reach, pressed her head into his shoulder and neck and tasted his unyielding, perspiration dotted skin, and even slid a hand down to touch him in a way that almost shattered his fluid movements and made him hiss into her soft skin.

When they came together it was smooth and perfect and he held her eyes whole with his gaze. The way he pressed a hot kiss to her palm and groaned her name was her undoing. They lay together in the twisted sheets afterwards silent, but pressed against each other.

He stroked the side of her face with his fingers and pushed her hair back. In the smooth, steady rhythm of his heartbeat, Sakura found some measure of happiness she had thought would elude her forever.

The rings on their fingers didn't look quite so bad in the dim light.

---

---

---

* * *

I said I would try and make it less bitty and I think I failed. :/ Some fics write themselves and this one was a dominatrix of a plot bunny. I was but the humble slave who typed it to its wishes. I think this is it done. All melancholic and whatnot, but... ehhh. I'm tired now.

Thank you, and goodnight.

xxx


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